I Believe
by Nika Dixon
Summary: A tag to The Shrine. R/K ship Jen works her way through the events of the past few weeks with a little agression therapy.


_**Author's Note**: This Shrine tag is for my fellow R/K shippers who felt a little (okay a lot) jolted at the end of the episode. Here's my epilogue. :) Don't get me wrong, I love-love-love McKay! But my inner romantic wants Jen and Ronon. :) I also took a little liberty with Jen's sport of choice. Hope you don't mind. - Nika_

* * *

… _how could you let them do this to me? …_

… _stop letting these guys talk you into stupid things …_

… _I thought you didn't believe …_

… _I've loved you for some time …_

… _You did a good job …_

Words and phrases echoed around her mind, bouncing off each other and colliding. Right, wrong, luck, mistakes. Each item slammed through her body with every swing of the racket, putting physical pain ahead of the mental whirlwind.

_You waited too long_. Two steps forward. Forehand.

_You could have killed him_. Slide to the side. Backhand.

_You should have listened_. Hop right. Forehand.

_Earth rules don't live here_. Side step. Backhand.

Her muscles ached with the strain of the lengthy battle with her squash racket. Her thighs burned and trembled with each step, each hop, each jump after the ball. The ache in her shoulders caused her to curse with the swing as she slammed the ball against the wall. The ball that had become her anger. The ball that was everything she wanted. Everything she didn't understand.

She been so stupid to think that she was the only one with the answers. She'd ignored advice from the two residents of the damn galaxy for god's sake. Advice that proved to be the key. Weeks of work. Weeks of worry. Weeks of forcing him to suffer the loss of his mind when all he needed was for her to admit she didn't know everything. She'd nearly killed him and he'd thought he loved her.

"Damn it!"

Another backhand and she grunted when her elbow locked and twinged. Forehand. She bit her lip to counter-act the strain in her shoulder. Her ponytail swung sharply around, the damp ends stinging her cheek. Backhand. She stumbled, her legs uncooperative, her left ankle rolling in on itself. Two quick stagger steps forward to recover and she missed, the ball escaping into the darkened hallway behind her.

Swearing loudly, she stared up at the ceiling, air escaping and returning forcefully to her lungs, her heart pounding in her ribs, her throat, her skull. Her bangs were plastered against her forehead and she swiped them away with the back of her hand. Fists on her hips she bent, gasping for air, as a cool bead of sweat trickled down the overheated skin her lower back and merged with the soaked band of elastic around her waist.

How were you supposed to deal with the accolades that came from saving the life of the resident genius when it was pretty much your fault he'd gotten that bad in the first place? But more importantly, what do you say to someone who's dying… who's on their last breath… when they say they love you? Do you let them believe they have your heart in return, knowing they'd not be around to see the truth? Do you brush it off? Do you believe it as truth? If it's hallucination do you shrug it off? If it's not do you break them into tiny pieces and tell them they can't have it? Do you tell them it's already gone? That someone else has taken it away? Someone else who's advice you'd ignored? Someone else who now has every right to be pissed off and angry and disappointed?

"God." She exhaled, straightening up and rolling her shoulders.

"I don't know!" She exclaimed into the rooftop.

Yes, she was wrong.

Yes, she made a mistake.

No, she probably _wouldn't_ do it any differently.

It was just the way she was, and damn it if he didn't like it… well then he could just…

Just what?

Leave?

She laughed sadly.

She trusted him. Trusted him with her heart and soul.

But she hadn't listened to him.

How exactly does _that_ say _relationship_?

It didn't.

"Yeah, like you know… because you've had _so_ many." With a shake of her head she dug into the pocket of her shorts and yanked out a spare ball. "Idiot." Staring at the back wall of the empty storage room she ignored the throbbing in her upper arm and served.

"You're supposed (smack) to be (smack) open minded!" (smack)

She managed to connect twice more before her left knee gave out and she staggered with a grunt of frustration letting the ball escape behind her. Digging into her pocket she grabbed for the last ball, and twisted around to lift her right arm.

Cool skin wrapped firmly across the pulse thumping beneath the hot skin of her wrist.

"Enough."

Jen stared up into Ronon's eyes, feeling the rapidly firing thrum of her blood slamming through her veins beneath his fingers. She didn't bother to ask how he'd known where to find her. The man had an oddly psychic radar when it came to tracking her down.

She relented without resistance when he removed the racket from her hand and replaced it with the bottle of water she'd left standing by the edge of the doorway. With an exhausted sigh she lowered herself to the floor in the same spot, and unscrewed the lid. Finishing half, she lowered the bottle and waited while he settled himself on the floor beside her and crossed his legs.

Together they sat, side by side, in the quiet of the empty room in one of the east towers, while her heartbeat slowly returned to a semi-normal level.

"I though you were supposed to be off world?" She finally asked, unable to stomach the silence any longer.

"I thought _you_ were supposed to be sleeping." He countered.

"I guess I wasn't tired enough." She shrugged.

"Apparently." He made a face. "And now?"

Jen snorted, raising the water bottle for another swallow of the cool liquid. After a long drink she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and recapped the container.

"You know," he fingered her damp bangs away from her forehead. "You're going to have to let this go."

She frowned. "It's not easy."

"It's not supposed to be easy." He shook his head. "It's supposed to hurt like hell."

"Gee, thanks." She muttered.

"Look. If you had taken him to the Shrine immediately, the radiation wouldn't have had the same effect, right?"

She nodded.

"If you hadn't… _waited_…" he grinned when she snorted. "For Rodney to get bad enough that the creature re-expanded with such force, would you have figured it out before the radiation made him too sick to stay?"

"I don't know. Maybe." She shrugged. "Probably not."

"Then if you _hadn't_ argued with me, you might have taken him too soon. And nothing would have happened."

"But we don't know that for sure."

"No, we don't know, and _that_ is the whole point. You can't change what you don't know. And you can't change who you are. You're a doctor. A healer. That's what you do and what you are. You don't take things at face value, you fight for what you believe in, and you don't take shit." He grinned. "Especially from me."

She snorted softly, the edges of her mouth curving into a slight smile. "So you're not angry with me?"

"No."

"But I didn't believe you."

He uncoiled himself from the floor and reached for her hand, pulling her to her feet. "I would be angrier if you took everything I said at a word."

"Angri-_er_?" She repeated, bending quickly to retrieve her water bottle. "So you _are_ angry."

"Was." He shrugged. "You did just spend six weeks doting on McKay."

"Right." Jen frowned at the memory of Rodney's confession.

"Jennifer." Ronon threaded his fingers through hers and gently spun her around to face him. "Never stop using this…" he laid his finger tips across the center of her chest. "To guide this." He placed his hands on either side of her head and lightly kissed her forehead. "You have the heart of a warrior. Never forget that. But what happened, happened. It's over. You _must _let go. Living in the past will kill you."

Jen sighed at the power of knowledge in his words.

"Were you always this smart?" She asked softly.

Ronon rolled his eyes. "Now she notices."

With a laugh she buried herself against his chest, feeling the strength and love in his arms. Her heart sighed with completion as he wrapped himself around her. Reluctangly parting, she pushed away.

She couldn't change the past. But she could certainly make sure she didn't mess up the future.

"Come on, Mr. Sarcastic." She grabbed his hand and tugged him along beside her and out into the hallway. "I think it's time we got cleaned up."

"We?"

"Well…" She shrugged. "There's this place called The Shower, and I've heard that something extraordinary will happen if you agree to wash my back."

"Extraordinary, huh."

"That's what I heard. But if you don't believe me…"

"Is that a pre-requisite?"

Jen smiled slowly. "No. I'll make a believer out of you either way."

"Promise?"

"Promise."


End file.
